"Perhaps not, my lord," she replied, gravely; "but it will be a mock ceremonial, like the last. Do not attempt to deceive me. I am fully aware of your intentions, and after the awful fate of the wretched instrument of your purposed criminality, you will not readily get another person to tempt in like manner the vengeance of Heaven. I have had a severe struggle with myself. But at length I have triumphed over my irresolution. I will not disguise from you that I love you still,—and must ever, I fear, continue to love you. But I will not be yours on the terms you propose. Neither will I leave this house with you, nor suffer you to remain in it, in any other than your proper character. On my father's return I will disclose all to him. If your designs are honourable, I am sure he will no longer oppose my union with you. If not, we part for ever."
"Be prudent, sweet girl, I entreat of you," cried the earl imploringly. "Your indiscretion will ruin all. There are a thousand reasons why your father should not be consulted on the matter."
"There are none that weigh with me," she interrupted, decidedly. "I have been bewildered—beside myself,—but, thank Heaven, I have recovered before it is too late."
"You are beside yourself at this moment," cried Rochester, unable to control his anger and mortification, "and will bitterly repent your folly. Neither your supplications nor my rank will have any weight with your father, prejudiced as he is against me. Fly with me, and I swear to make you mine, without a moment's loss of time. Will not my plighted word content you?"
"No, my lord, you have broken it already," returned Amabel. "My father shall know the truth."
A dark shade passed over Rochester's countenance, and a singular and most forbidding expression, which Amabel had once before noticed, took possession of it. His love for her seemed changed to hate, and she tremblingly averted her gaze. At this juncture, the door opened, and the grocer and his wife entered the room. The former started, on seeing Amabel and the supposed preacher in such close propinquity, and a painful suspicion of the truth crossed his mind. He was not, however, kept long in suspense. Throwing off his wig, and letting his own fair ringlets fall over his shoulders, the earl tore open his cassock, and disclosed his ordinary rich attire. At the same time, his face underwent an equally striking change,—each feature resuming its original expression; and the grocer, though he witnessed the whole transformation, could scarcely believe that the same individual he had recently beheld stood before him.
"You now know who I am, Mr. Bloundel, and what brought me hither," said Rochester, with a haughty salutation.
"I do, my lord," replied the grocer, "and I give you full credit for your daring and ingenuity. After the manner in which I have been imposed upon myself, I can make allowance for others." He then turned to Amabel, and said, in a severe tone, "You are no longer my daughter."
"Father!" she cried, rushing towards him and throwing herself at his feet, "do not cast me off for ever. I am not now to blame. It is owing to my determination to disclose all to you that the earl has thus revealed himself. I might have deceived you further—might have fled with him."
"Forgive her! oh, forgive her!" cried Mrs. Bloundel—"or, if any ill happens to her, you will be answerable for it."